Possession
by ashestoashesanddusttodust
Summary: Even now, Jason's life doesn't run so smoothly. JayTim


**Possession  
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**A Word**: Request for priest!Jason, alterboy!Tim, and a possession. I"m not very comfortable with the alter boy power dynamics so I made Tim an acolyte.

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It just about figures in with the rest of Jason's life when Tim gets possessed just outside the fragile boundaries of the church yard.

"Son of a bitch," Jason swears as the brand new statues of the Mother Mary and her infant son start weeping blood as Tim's eyes roll back into his head. The small part of him not screaming in horror distantly notes that it's going to be a chore cleaning them later. Especially if he has to do it alone because some demonic filth kills Tim.

The acolyte is growling and the sound darkens the air of the church courtyard turning it foul and rancid. His body is unnaturally rigid as he rocks back and forth on his toes and heels, lips drawn back in a rictus grin that is sickeningly familiar to Jason.

"No," Jason breathes as the demon turns Tim's unfairly gorgeous face -twisted almost beyond recognition now- on him and laughs.

"Why Father Todd!" The demon exclaims in a voice that is neither a man nor a child's, but is somewhere in between the two. Impossibly grating and high all at the same time. The unnatural voice winds around the words the demons says like a depraved lover's touch and it makes bile rise up in the back of Jason's throat. "What a _scandalous_ delight you have here. What have you been doing to this poor young man?" Tim's dark eyebrows waggle lecherously and Jason has to force himself to stop seeing the man who has been working so closely with him for the past year. To focus instead on the evil using his body as a puppet. "His head is filled with such _sinful_ lust. Why the poor thing can barely stand it! He's not like you, you see. He isn't able to reconcile such unnatural sins with his faith. There's just not enough hypocrisy in him to stand for it."

Jason doesn't rise to the bait, any of it. It's what the demon's looking for, what it wants, and giving in to it means it will win. Losing is not something that Jason likes to face when it comes to demons, especially not with Tim at risk. "You are in a sacred vessel demon, in the name of God I command you to leave it."

"Oh! It's a _sacred_ vessel now?" The demons cackles and turns too smoothly to be natural as Jason stalks forward. He has nothing more than his crucifix and faith, but that should be enough. Tim's still in his robes, and they've absorbed enough holy water from the morning that Jason can use it. "How sacred can it be with how often he thinks about being your _personal_ vessel. Spread out over that pretty little altar he takes so much care of and just waiting for you to fill him with the holy love of your dick!"

Jason grits out the first lines of the rites he prefers in Latin. He usually uses English for the exorcisms of most people, but Tim's smart. Terrifyingly so sometimes. He'll understand the words and know enough to repeat them wherever it is the demons has shoved him to. Demonic victims, from what Jason has gathered after the fact, are always conscious and very much aware of everything happening around them during the possession. It's one of the worst things the demon does when it violates people.

The demon's face ripples. Discomfort, irritation, pain. Tim's doing his part then, from the inside, fighting the possession even as Jason pries at it's hold. Jason nearly grins as he circles the demon. Getting behind it to press it closer to the boundary of the church, the invisible line of consecrated ground that can only help him.

"But you knew all about that, didn't you?" The demon rages as it finds itself caught. The whites of Tim's eyes turning red as bloody tears leak out. It's snarling now, no hint of the humor it started out with. It's losing it's hold faster that it expected and is lashing out desperately. "You've seen the way he looks at you, you know!" The demon whines as Jason raises his voice and firmly commands it to leave again. "Such a good little priest you are. Ignoring those disgusting looks and," the demons shrieks as Jason steps forward, crucifix out, and it's forced over onto consecrated ground.

Jason ignores it's words, ignores the harm he knows it's trying to cause in this last desperate stab. He doesn't stop his prayers and commands. Doesn't try to correct it or defend himself. That can come later, after the demon's gone and Tim's recovered.

"-satanam aliosque spiritus malignos, qui ad perditionem animarum pervagantur in mundo," the demon's wordless now, back arching sharply and it's hovering. It has to be, Jason just can't see with how long Tim's robes are. "Divina virtute in infernum detrude," Jason steps forward again and gets one arm in the small of his back, and presses his crucifix firmly to his chest. Right over Tim's heart as it shrieks louder. One long, endless cry that curls up into the sky and makes Jason's ears ring. "Amen."

The silence is deafening, and the immediate release of tension nearly makes Jason drop Tim. "Tim?" The air is clear again, and Jason drags them both further into the courtyard. Dropping to his knees next to the statues and easing Tim down to lay out on his back. Hands flying to check Tim over. His pulse is fast under Jason's fingers, his breathing quick and labored.

"Come on, Tim, tell me you're alright," Jason wipes at the drying lines of blood on his face, revealing the paler than normal skin underneath. Tim's eyes are closed, stubbornly, because Jason can see the way his lips are growing thin. "You're awake, I know you are, Open your eyes and stop freaking me out here."

Slowly, Tim obeys, and Jason feels his breath leave him in a rush when he can look down into Tim's pale blue eyes.

"Praise be to God," Jason breathes out and slumps down over the acolyte. Letting himself feel the exhaustion that always follows an exorcism. Even ones as easy as this. "Are you alright?"

"You-" Tim's voice is _wrecked_ and he coughs hard. Grimacing at the pain of it. His head turns weakly away and it's obvious that as tired as Jason is, Tim's feeling five times worse. "How can you stand to-?"

"Easily," Jason cuts off Tim's words because it doesn't matte what Tim's going to finish the sentence with. Jason curls his arm under Tim and grunts as he picks him up. Staggering to his feet and aiming his almost drunken stumble towards the back door of the church. Tim shifts and Jason can see his troubled expression in the corner of his eye. Demons like to deal in truth. Mixing it with lies so fluidly that it's hard to tell which is which, but the closer to truth they can get the better. Nothing flays people more expertly than all their secrets being laid out in the open. "There's good and evil in this world, Tim. You've just seen some of the worst of the evil."

There's a bench in the small hallway just inside the door that Tim brought in during his second month. Tim leans heavily against the wall when Jason sets him down on it. His face is expressionless now. The way it gets when he's dealing with grieving or upset parishioners. The face he used to give Jason all the time before the man thawed enough to start getting snarky and personal with him.

"Demons aren't the only evil in the world though," Jason carefully kneels down on the floor, keeping one hand on Tim even as the man tries to shy back and away. "There's a lot of hate and evil in people too, and even, I'm sorry to say, in the church."

"Father," Tim hisses out a protest, and he goes stiff even as his eyes go wide at the words that are very close to blasphemy, but fuck that. Jason's seen enough, been around long enough that he's secure in his position, in his faith.

"It's true. The Bible is the word of God, Timothy, but it's the Word as interpreted by mankind. And we're kind of shitty at listening and comprehending," Jason grins at the snort that gets him. "There's so much in that book that just won't fly in today's world, and no one expects them to be allowed. We don't stone a woman who doesn't scream loud enough while being raped, we don't make allowances for people to be sold into slavery anymore, and we don't kill kids who talk back to their parents. If you didn't already know that I don't view every word of the Bible as the absolute truth that must be followed," Jason shakes his head and gets both his hands on Tim who isn't pulling away as much anymore. "Well, I don't know who the hell you've been talking to for the last year, but they sure as fuck weren't me."

Tim laughs and it's a drawn out noise that's not entirely good but better than before. "Point," Tim slumps down and his eyes slide shut. "Can we do the whole questioning faith and rearranging my outlook on life thing later though. I'm really tired right now."

"Sure," Jason eases back a bit but doesn't move away entirely. How much truth the demon spoke is debatable, but if even a smidgen of it is true? Jason reaches up and fits his hand around Tim's cheek, lets his thumb stroke over his lips that part slightly. "Just don't want you thinking the wrong thing about what that demon fucker did, alright?"

Tim swallows but nods slowly. "Alright."

"Good," Jason gets up and picks Tim back up. Not minding the weight one bit now, or the way Tim seems to curl a little in his arms. "Lets get you into a bed then. We'll talk more later."

Tim hums in agreement, already half asleep as Jason walks further into the cool interior of the church.

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End file.
